Three more drabbles today, and the conclusion of last week’s storyline.
She watched the magic-conjured storms rage against the sea from the safety of her tower. Whisked away by loyal palace guards, she fled in the early hours of the invasion and now wondered about the city’s refugees; had they found a haven or were they lost?
She turned from the window. “He won’t stop sending his men to look for me. Not until he drags me back.”
Her bodyguard bowed his head. “We will not let that happen. We will protect you.”
“At what cost? And does it matter anymore? My love is gone. My reason for leaving is gone.”
The interrogator wiped the blood from his hands as his king approached, bowing to his liege. “He finally broke. She is alive, but gone from the city. Guards took her in the morning hours before we smashed the gates.”
The king snarled, “Where is she? Did he say?”
“Yes, sire. The remnants of the prince’s men retreated to a fortress in the mountains. Strong but not impenetrable, a few days’ ride north.”
“Excellent. The army rides north. Soon she will be mine again.” The king paused, and then added, “Torch this city as we leave. Burn it to the ground.”
Never Far Enough
She heard screams and knew more men died because of her. At the sound of footsteps, she faced him.
“You can’t run anymore, Helen. I’ve come to take back what is mine.”
“I was never yours, Menelaus. I never loved you, only Paris. I will never give you what you truly desire. Possess me if you must, but you will never have my heart.”
Helen strode past her erstwhile, furious husband, back into captivity with a sliver of satisfaction in her soul. She lost her bid for love, but she would drag Menelaus into her hell to suffer alongside her.
After a little holiday hiatus, Drabble Wednesday is back with three new fantasy stories, which will be continued into next week at least. Hope you enjoy this new short series.
She stood in the reflection of the morning sun, golden halos tickling wisps of her hair. Fragrance wafted from the flowers decorating the bedroom and a perfume jar on the floor. She had waited for him all night, but he never came. Now she slipped behind the dressing screen, changing from a silken robe to a linen dress.
She was in no hurry; news would arrive and a broken heart would follow. Battle sounds had raged outside the window all night, before silence. He did not come, and he never would. The war had claimed him, and she was alone.
Packed like fish in a barrel, and just as smelly, the refugees crowded the decks of the ship as it sailed towards the open sea. The city held no safety, not with invading soldiers flooding the streets. Better to take your chances on a treacherous ocean journey. Any destination better than the one they fled.
Or so they told themselves. The seas didn’t agree.
The vessel, low in the water, tilted into a thunderous storm, and crashing waves dealt the final blow to any escape. Cracking wood and panicked screams resounded in the night before the waters swallowed the ship.
“Please, no! Spare me!”
The soldier pulled the trigger and shot the man in the head. He signalled his officers to move to the next house. Empty, they looted it and continued on. As they yanked more enemy citizens into the streets, the soldier curled his lip in distaste. A woman spit on his boot and he shot her in the face. The rest were executed by his order.
“We should just torch this whole wretched place.” The soldier kicked a corpse in frustration. “Have you found anyone who would talk? Tell us where she is?”
“No sir. She’s gone.”
To Be Continued…
Wishing everyone a Happy Holiday season! And see you in the New Year.
And to bring you a smile, here are two encore drabbles from last year.
Frankie’s Twelve Typos of Christmas
“Frankie, I thought you said the Christmas show was finished?”
“It is. All twelve days are there and working.”
“Then come here and explain it to me.”
A grumpy Frankie joined me. “What’s wrong?”
“Um, it’s kind of obvious. You have five gold wings, not rings. There shrimp swimming in a tank of water. And why are the geese praying?”
“They’re prawns not shrimp. And that’s what the lyric sheet they sent me said. Five golden wings, six geese a praying, and seven prawns a swimming.”
I sighed. “Oh. So it’s corporate’s fault for a change. Good to know.”
Frankie and Joni’s Christmas Party
“What were you thinking!” I screamed at Frankie as we ran through the halls of… “What is this
“Um, that I wanted to ride in the Tardis? And it’s the palace of something or other. I forget! Oh,
they’re getting closer!”
“Oh, crap! What’s the Tardis have to do with our virtual Christmas party?”
“You know, bigger on the inside and all that! It made a fun venue! I mean before—” Laser fire
hit the wall and he sped past me. “I didn’t think this would happen!”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have invited the Daleks! Now keep running!”
This post came down to the wire this morning, as yesterday found me partially falling victim to a phone scam and having to scramble to stop the damage. I can’t say I’m in the most festive mood, but I did my best to wrap up the Krampus story.
Rage of Krampus
“Oh, for crap’s sake. What do they teach you these days in school?” The creature snorted. “See, that’s why I’m here. It’s all Santa, Santa, Santa. Even now. We were a team back in the day, but does anyone remember old Krampus? No, sir.”
Who is this clown?
“That’s sad.” Frankie moved forward. “But it doesn’t justify what you did to Rudolf!”
“He stole my limelight! And he wasn’t even one of us! Just an add on.”
I sighed. “What do you want? What are your unreasonable demands, or world domination plans? Let’s hear them and get this over with.”
Krampus blinked. “Um, I don’t have any. I’m just looking to vent some steam, rage against the cruel world and all that.”
“So you don’t plan to take over the world?”
“No. Why would anyone want to do that? This world is crazy. Running the whole madhouse is not my idea of fun. I just wanted some recognition. I want people to remember me.”
“So, this is a temper tantrum?”
“Hey. If you were an integral part of the holiday season and then got sidelined for a nose-glowing reindeer you’d be testy too.”
Frankie piped up, “We could fix that.”
“So he wasn’t a bad guy after all.” Frankie grinned over his eggnog.
“He was a nutcase who thought he was some holiday demon god that punished naughty children.”
“Still, he was awfully nice when they came to take him back to the psychiatric facility. He thanked us for adding a Krampus display to the holiday roster.”
“Yeah, it does make an interesting addition. The horror fans will love it.”
“It’s not for kids, though. Seeing children stuffed in a sack will give them nightmares.”
It was my turn to grin. “That’s my favourite part.”
We toasted with our eggnog.
The Christmas saga continues…
“I got a list, don’t need to check it twice. I always know who’s naughty and nice.”
“Now what?” I grimaced and stamped my foot in frustration. “Show yourself! No more of these reindeer games!”
“Reindeer,” Frankie moaned. “Poor Rudolph.”
“Yeah. Why are you messing with the holiday display?”
“Because I can. Because it’s my nature.” More creepy laughter. “The question you should ask is: What will I do next?”
“What can you do that’s worse than what we’ve seen? We’ve fought zombie cows and penguins, two apocalypses, and freaking flying monkeys! Bring it!”
“I can stop Christmas from coming.”
“Frankie! Did you program a grinch into the holiday holo?”
“No! Way too much legal trouble.”
“Then who? Which—”
“Grinch? That second rate holiday wrecker? He had no follow through. I’m the one and only dark holiday spirit.”
“Big talk for a guy that won’t even show his face.”
“Haven’t you heard of a dramatic build-up? Every good villain needs an entrance. You’ll see me soon enough.”
“Before or after I die of boredom?”
“Oh, fine. Here’s a clue: Do you know where your Santa is?”
“Not the village!” Frankie ran out screaming and I chased him to another holo-room.
We ran straight into a scene of carnage and chaos.
Virtual bodies of Santa’s elves were scattered on a toy room floor amid the destroyed remnants of gifts, wrapping, and blood-stained bows.
“Oh, the humanity. I mean, the elven kind. They’re all gone. Wiggles and Hoppy, Jazzy and Sprite. He even got Bob.”
“Bob? Who names an elf, Bob?” The ominous voice returned and smoke rose from the floor, billowing a column of charcoal grey that coalesced into a horned figure clothed in tattered robes. He grinned, showing sharp fangs, and roared, “I am Krampus!”
In unison, we asked, “Who?”
To be continued next week…
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